Vince & The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat
by brokenmoonlight
Summary: A drunken prank leads to Vince being in possession of a rather famous coat. How on earth will he and Howard smuggle it back without getting caught? No slash, but will contain bits of fluff at some point!
1. Whoops

**A/N: I don't know where this came from, but I thought it was rather amusing at the time. However, I'll let you be the judges of that! By the way, To Hell and Back will be updated tomorrow!**

**Disclaimer: All things Boosh belong to the lovely Julian and Noel.**

**xxxx**

"Hey, Naboolio, check out my new coat!" Vince said, proudly, twirling around so it flew out around him.

Naboo looked up from his breakfast, a look on his face that was reserved for humouring Vince, and said, "Nice – where d'ya get it?"

Vince chuckled, still twisting about. "No idea. I just woke up wearing it."

Naboo frowned. "You don't remember where it came from?"

"No. Mind you, I was pretty wasted last night." He sat down at the kitchen table and helped himself to cereal, singing quietly to himself as he poured out some tea.

Bollo grunted. "Coat make Vince look like made of rainbows."

The door slammed downstairs and Howard appeared, carrying a newspaper and a bottle of milk.

"Hey, Howard!" Vince said, jumping out of his chair and spinning round for the thousandth time that morning.

"How do you do that?"

Vince looked confused. "Do what?"

"You wake me up at three in the morning, crashing about and singing like you're auditioning for The X-Factor, your eyeballs swimming in alcohol, and then the next day, you're completely fine. How? How do you do it?"

Vince laughed. "I know, it's genius. So, do you like my coat, then?"

Howard dumped the milk and paper on the table and pulled a face. "You look like Joseph. You got a choir of school children, too?"

Vince stuck his tongue out at him and sat back down.

"Where did you get it, anyway? Was the local am-dram group having a clear out?"

"You know what? I was so pissed, I can't remember."

Howard rolled his eyes and flopped down on the sofa, grabbing the remote and switching on the television. The news channel flashed up, and Howard watched intently, his jaw slowly dropping when he saw what the item was about.

"Vince!"

"What?"

"Come here!"

Noting Howard's urgent tone, Vince scurried over and plonked himself down next to him, Naboo and Bollo joining them. They all stared at the screen.

"**So, Clare, can you tell us exactly what happened?"**

"**Well, Mark, going by the CCTV footage, a group of youths broke into the Adelphi Theatre on London's Strand at around two this morning, via the stage door. They exited about ten minutes later, carrying a bundle which has now been confirmed at the famous Technicolour Dreamcoat. Early reports suggest that as the alarms failed to go off, a member of the group might have been either an employee, or former employee, who knew the code for the alarm system. I've also just been informed that all performances from today onwards have been cancelled until further notice as there isn't a spare coat – that was the only one they had."**

Vince gave a rather unmanly squeal and sprung up from the sofa, shrugging the coat off onto the floor and hastily stepping away from it.

The others just stared at him.

"Oh my God oh my God," he panicked, flapping his arms about.

"You muppet!" Naboo cried. "Who were you with last night?!"

"I don't know! I met them at the club!"

Howard got up and walked over to Vince, looking like he was about to strangle him. "You complete idiot! What we gonna do?"

"What do you mean 'we'?! You're not the one handling stolen goods!" Vince cried.

"No, but we're harbouring a fugitive! Oh, God," he put his hands on Vince's shoulders and shook him. "I can't go to jail, Vince! I've got so much to give!"

Vince shook him off. "You?! What about me?! I'm the pretty one! I'm the one who's gonna be lined up for a bumming!"

"Guys!"

Howard and Vince turned to look at Naboo, who was standing there with his hands on his hips. However, instead of giving advice, he just said, "Bollo and I are off now – shaman business."

"What?! You can't leave now! What am I supposed to do with it?!" Vince gestured wildly to the coat on the floor.

Naboo shrugged. "Just give it back."

"Give it back?! Listen, you little smurf..." he trailed off when he realised that both Naboo and Bollo had disappeared. "Howard!" he grabbed his shirt collar, eyes unnaturally wide. "What do we do?!"

Howard caught his hands and held him still. "Look, you could barely see the back of your head in that video, so why don't we just hide it in the loft and just forget about it?"

"I can't," Vince said, hopping from one foot to the other. "As amazing as it looks on me..."

"Vince!"

"Sorry!" he said, snapping out of his reverie. "Anyway, I've ruined their show – they can't continue without the coat! And it's a genius show – have you seen the costumes?!"

Howard flopped down onto the sofa. "What do you suggest then?" he paused for a moment, thinking. "Actually, this is your problem – I should just go out and leave you to it." He got up again and made towards the stairs. Vince flew after him.

"Wait!"

"Vince, I'm sick of how irresponsible you are! Getting drunk and going off with people you don't know, and then expecting us to clear up your mess! I won't do it anymore."

"Oh, Howard, come on. I'm sorry, I am. It won't happen again, just please, **please**, help me."

Howard shook his head. "How many times have I heard that?" he said, pushing past him and making his way down. Vince practically leapt at him, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back.

"Please, Howard!" He gave him his best hurt puppy impression, pouting as though his life depended on it – which, in some way, it did.

Howard sighed, frustrated with himself for always giving into him. "Fine."

xxxx

**What do you think so far? Let me know! xx**


	2. The Drug Dealer and the Pimp

**A/N: Thank you for reviewing! Enjoy the next chapter!**

**xxxx**

"Vince, what are you wearing? You're supposed to be going incognito - you look ridiculous!"

"What do you mean?! I'm completely concealed!"

"You look like a walnut whip!" Howard exclaimed, one hand on his hip and the other running through his hair impatiently.

Vince huffed and stared at his reflection in the mirror again. He thought the full length, chocolate brown faux fur coat, large sunglasses and cream floppy hat made him look like a mysterious film star. Howard told him he was missing the point.

"I mean, look at me -"

"You're wearing a suit," Vince cut in, "a sand coloured suit with deck shoes." He looked disgusted.

"Exactly! Inconspicuous. Crisp white shirt, open at the collar – I could be a patron of the theatre, nobody will look twice at me."

"Give you a cigar and you'll look like a middle-aged Cuban drug dealer."

Howard glared at him. "And you think going out dressed like a pimp isn't going to get us noticed?"

"Us?"

"I'll be right next to you, you berk!"

Vince chuckled. "Oh, yeah. Still, if everyone's looking at me then no one will notice when you..."

Howard eyed him suspiciously. "When I what?"

"Whenyouputthecoatbackinthedressingroom," he said quickly, his voice muffled by his hand over his mouth.

"What?" Howard said, advancing towards him, a look coming over his face that made Vince back away quickly.

"Well, no one's gonna notice you, are they?!"

"Thanks a lot!"

"Oh, you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." Howard stormed out of the room, plonked himself down at the kitchen table and picked up the newspaper.

Vince crept in, rolling his eyes when he saw Howard's face buried in the paper.

"Howard..."

An irritable flick of the page was all he got in reply.

"Howard! Howard? HowardHowardHowardHowardHoward, Howard!"

"WHAT?!"

Vince looked down at the floor.

"You coming?"

"No!"

Vince pulled one of the chairs at the table round to where Howard was sitting and sat down next to him.

"Come on, Howard. I was only trying to give you your dues – you're a man of action, remember? I thought you'd like to be in the thick of it. I was thinking of you, that's all."

Howard scoffed at him. "No, you weren't. You were hoping I'd do it so if someone did see, I'd get the blame and you could swan off in a meringue haze."

"No, I wasn't!"

"You were, Vince. I mean, why do you always automatically think that I'll do these things for you? What about me? What about **my** feelings? Why are you always so selfish? I've never met anyone as self involved as you are." He put the paper back up to his face, only pretending to read this time.

Vince put his elbow on the table, chin resting in his hand, his other coming down over the top of the paper to pull it away from Howard's face. To his surprise, Howard didn't resist, but he didn't look at him either. He placed the paper on the table and tried to catch his gaze.

"Hey," he said, softly.

Howard ignored him, although, secretly, he was amazed that Vince hadn't stomped off when he'd had a go at him.

Vince tried a different tactic and put a hand on his arm, shaking it gently, eventually earning him a weary look from his friend. He gave him a small smile.

"Come on, come with me. You know I'll mess things up if I'm left on my own. I **need** you, Howard. Please?"

Howard just stared at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

Vince quickly thought about what he could do to set about replacing that look with a smile, and he got up and planted himself on Howard's lap, arms going round his neck.

"Vince!"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into his neck.

"Vince, get off!" Howard tried to push him away, but he clung on tightly and eventually he gave up.

Vince looked him right in the eyes. "I **am** sorry, Howard."

Howard looked away.

"Please, come with me. Please? Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease..." he head-butted Howard gently in the side of his face. "Pleasepleasepleaseplease -" He stopped when he heard a small laugh escape Howard's lips. "Was that a laugh? Are you smiling?" Vince grinned and tried to look at his face, eventually grabbing hold of his chin to stop him from turning his head away.

Howard bit down on his lip, trying, and failing, to remove the smile that was forcing its way through, and shook his head, getting up and forcing Vince onto his feet.

"You owe me," he said, grabbing his keys.

Vince grinned. "A night out on me."

Howard paused at the top of the stairs. "To the jazz club?"

"Oh, do we have... yeah, okay," he sighed, as Howard narrowed his small eyes at him.

Satisfied, Howard led the way down the stairs, Vince following behind, not entirely happy at the thought of having to spend an entire evening listening to jazz, but knowing that he really didn't have a choice and, come to think of it, he was also now slightly upset about being called selfish and self-involved, so he decided he would have to find a way to prove Howard wrong.

Howard suddenly stopped, causing Vince to crash into the back of him.

"Oof!"

"Vince, did you pick up the coat?"

"Oh... no."


End file.
